Chapter 62 As long As Its From Her Hands, I'd Gladly Die

Jaxx’s Point Of View The weight of Roman’s words sat between us like a loaded gun. “It’s about your grandfather,” he’d said, and even now, the echo of it rippled through my skull. I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to roll my eyes so hard they might stick. The old man, always the old man. He never stopped, not even after all these years, not even after all I’d done to carve out my own place, my own power, my own name. I turned slowly, picking up the glass again. The whiskey burned down my throat, a fire I almost welcomed. Then I set the glass aside with a loud, deliberate clink. “What about the old man?” I asked, my voice flat but edged with steel. Roman exhaled sharply through his nose, pacing a little, like a wolf in a cage. His shoes clicked against the polished floor, his hand raking through his dark hair before he stopped, turning to face me. “He’s still on the same topic,” Roman said. “Taking over the clan. Coming back to Italy. He doesn’t quit, Jaxx. He’s relentless.” His eyes